If
by detective-sweetheart
Summary: There was always a question of 'if', no matter what happened in his life.


**A/N: Random fic. I felt like writing Munch again, finally, so I did, and this is what came of it. SVU is not mine. Fits into the Charm Bracelets AU if you look hard enough. **

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If he could have seen what it would do to him, he'd never have gone through with it. It was as simple as that. If he could have seen ahead and looked at the sleepless nights, he'd have reconsidered walking away from everything that he knew, and into something completely foreign. If he could have known that it would be much harder than anything he'd ever seen in the so-called 'city that bleeds', he'd have stayed where he was.

If he'd been given the chance to see into the future, he'd have probably wanted to die right then and there. The world was changing slowly, but it was changing, and everyone knew it, including him. If he could have had one moment where everything stood completely still, he'd have taken it. And if there was still something out there to make him believe that things weren't as bad as they seemed to be, he wanted to find it. But it didn't seem like there was anything there.

If he could have seen the changes the unit would go through, in either unit he'd served in, he'd have thought twice before walking into it like he did. If he and the others had known that they would lose one of the murder police by his own hand, they'd have done anything they could to stop it. If he could have seen that his first partner in New York would be shaken by a case that would literally take what innocence he had left, he'd have tried harder to find another way for the younger cop to leave the unit. If he could've known he'd lose his second partner to Vice, and nearly lose his third to a teenager's bullet, he'd have left.

But he has stayed, and because of that, he has no choice but to stay, until he retires, if he ever does. As it is, however, it seems as if there is no end in sight, and he knows there is one. But it is a long time coming. So he sits, in a quiet squad room, across from his partner, in the middle of the night, contemplating things. If he could have known that the living victims would affect him more than the ones who have already passed on, he wouldn't have come into this unit looking for a change. But he wonders now if they would even care if he left. If it would bother _him_ if he did.

Blood, he thinks, flows through any city's streets, no matter what city they're in. As long as people are being killed, there will always be blood. The question is, he muses, if someone comes to clean it up, who will it be? But it is not really a question. Not to him, anyway. In Baltimore, there are the murder police. In New York City, there is the Special Victims Unit, though the blood that they clean up and the crimes they solve are sometimes not as obvious as a straight-up murder. If he could have known that something as needed as this could be so thankless, he'd have said something before now.

As it is, the four of them together are somewhat like a family. He wonders what would happen if one of them, other than him. If it would shake them, more than they already have been shaken. If he could have seen the events of the past two years unfolding ahead of him, he'd have tried to make things easier on the squad, but as it was, no one saw it coming. And if he could have known that the squad would indeed be split, he'd have tried harder to keep it together. Not that there was really much of anything that he could've done in the first place. But he'd still have tried to do something.

If sarcasm didn't get them all through the job, they'd have all lost it a long time before now. It's something he learned a long time ago, and something that's managed to stick with him. If they know how to use it, and when, then it isn't a problem. If they don't, then it is. They're careful not to cross the line. But if and when they do, they know it, and at least try to make amends. He wonders what the city would think if they didn't, if they all made it look like they didn't care. If the city knows that every case takes a part of them with it. If he had known that he could feel like he was dying with each case only to feel that he was still alive with every conviction and have to go through that over and over again, he wouldn't still be here.

If he'd known what it would be like to see the effects of an acquittal, he'd never have ventured into the courtroom in the first place. If he'd never known the secrets that a prosecutor friend in Baltimore had told him one day after such an event, he'd have never come here in the first place, on top of all the other reasons why if he'd known, he wouldn't have come. If this is a fight for her, he thinks, I've got a damn strange way of showing it. But if he thinks about it long enough, he realizes that it is, whether he thinks it is or not. If he had known that there were always going to be victims that went without justice being served…it would have broken him more than he already has been.

If he could have seen himself sitting here now, he probably would've wondered why it's worth it. Probably would have questioned himself. Questioned everything. As it is, there are a lot of things that need questioning, anyway. If he could've seen the world as it would be in this day and age, and if there had been a way for him to stay where he'd been in years gone by, he'd have done anything to find that, too. But the world, specifically the city, is in need of more help than it thinks it is. And if it ever decides that this path they're going on isn't the right one, if it ever decides to admit this, he hopes that he will be around.

If he had known that things could seem so awful and yet so wonderful at the same time, all because of that certain someone, he'd have never believed it. But now he does, if only because he has that someone, and things at work are the same as always, in the middle of the night, anyway, because in daytime, they're always different, because the cases never seem to want to go away. But things outside of work…they're wonderful, and he wonders if they would still be if he were still alone. And then he decides that if there is one thing he doesn't want to think about, that's it.

If he could have known that his years on the streets would leave him questioning everything, life, love, the cities he's lived in, the things he'd done…he'd have probably chosen another career. But he didn't, and the streets are always there, and if they disappear one day, he doesn't know what he's going to do. And if they stay…the same problem remains.

If only because the one question that's always there for them is 'If'.


End file.
